It's Cold Outside
by Twilts
Summary: Draco tries to get Hermione to spend New Years with him. Short, but sweet. Oneshot.


**A/N:** This was inspired by the song "Baby, It's Cold Outside" by James Taylor, even if it didn't turn out as planned. Forgive minor grammatical errors, but do point them out so I can fix them. This is for Sceltina for our fic exchange.

_Theme:_ New Year's

_Due:_ Jan. 15th

Yeah, it's a day late, and I'm dreadfully sorry about that.

**It's Cold Outside**

By _T_wilts

There were two ways in, but only one way out of the solitary room nestled far away from the castle that was the school by the hills that sloped gently down to the lake that had woven of soft yarn of water the ice surface in its tribute to the winter magic that unconditionally drifted throughout Hogwarts. The thick snow that was wafting down from the merry clouds was embroidered magic on the silken fabric of the sky that was drowning in the black of night, and the room was a spectator of it all. The glass windows that were only slightly marred by the glare of a warming fire led stray eyes to a panorama of everything that made Hogwarts the favorite home to the animals that were just now settling down for a bit of cuddling and the type of sleepy happiness that was known to spill it's liquor rolling down the mountains, slipping across the lake, and dripping slowly from the tops of trees. They were all about drunk for happiness now, and expectation of fireworks and the opening of a new year was enough to keep them from slipping off into their restful dreams. A door well protected in the Hogwarts castle was just a whispered password to cross the silver and gold common room of the Head Boy and Girl's common room, and lead to the room that beheld the spectacle of the night on New Year's Eve.

The Head Boy and Girl, the top students in the school, knew well that the only exit to their cozy escape was a trek back across the slow laden grounds, past the dense forest, part the emanating and enticing warmth of the gamekeeper's hut, and a long walk back to the grand oak doors of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, by which time their feet would be so tired from pulling themselves out of the suction of the well packed snow, that they'd feel fully happy to just return to that cozy room of theirs nestled by the lake. They ignored this all, though, for the simple relaxation they could gain there, by being away from their responsibilities, and rather being in the silent company of each other. When Hermione had gotten the spot as Head Girl, she'd stood up to receive the title to an unsurprised audience, but when Draco was announced as Head Boy, it was quite different. The propaganda went amuck without Draco's attempt to even slightly abate the ghastly rumors. It was then that they both found refuge in the room—Hermione to get things done, and Draco to escape the gossip.

Draco was biting his lip, looking caught between a look of concentration and the smile that was threatening to sneak onto his usually stoic features. The two were sitting right up to the fire, feeling the heat dancing about them as their only concern was the flammability of the homework they had spread out on the carpet. The were leaning back on the coffee table, feeling the hard stability of its edge in their backs while Draco tried to figure out how he could take notes and not let go of his Hermione's hand. She was almost asleep, he thought, and he took just a moment to watch the clam that had spread over her face since they'd been here. Just a week ago, Hermione was bustling about going insane over what to get which friends for the holidays, but the break they'd gotten from school had done them well. The stress-induced bags under her eyes had disappeared, and she had begun to glow with a happiness that made her look almost angelic in Draco's eyes. He could feel to soft puffs of her breaths on his deep blue knitted sweater, and he decided to read about Goblins before taking notes on them. If only to stay that warmth for a bit more.

And then he realized the problem in this decision. Hermione, he had learned, had an uncanny ability to stack books up to scrape the ceiling, and then somehow manage to cart them to various locations. His pile of books was about a yard away and, seeing as she organized it by which book he'd most likely read in his free time, A History of Magic was at the bottom. There was no way he could get it without waking her, he thought, and after stretching his arm as far as he could, he stared at it in dismay. His second attempt knocked the whole stack over and Hermione's head shot up beside him, her hands tightening on his forearm.

"What did you do?!" she exclaimed.

"Oh, how nice. I mean, yeah, I almost pulled my arm out of my socket to reach that book _without_ waking you up, but it's nice to see that you're still _so_ concerned about my well-being. Merlin, I mean—."

Hermione looked at him for a second in her shock, not taking anything in, and then shoved him lightly and whined, "The sarcasm!"

Draco grinned at her, kissed her cheek, teasing lightly, "Had a nice nap, love?"

"I wasn't asleep you know."

Draco decided to be safe and not to argue with that, and instead raised his eyebrows teasingly. She couldn't do anything about that. When he'd exclaimed after she raised her eyebrow at him, Hermione's simply said that her eyebrow just couldn't be controlled, naughty old thing, and so nothing it did could be taken into account. He had proceeded to kiss the smug smile off her face.

It was a weird relationship they had, and so sappy at this point that Draco was surprised he didn't spend his nights throwing up about it all. He supposed that there would be other people to do that for him, had Hermione allowed him to tell anyone. Draco was a very demonstrative man, and it was a direct blow to his ego that he'd gotten something shiny and perfect and hadn't been allowed to show her off. Hermione was certain that it was best that her boys had nothing to worry about. After all, Harry was busy with the war, and Ron was busy sucking the face off his nearest girlfriend. For someone who was so against his sister even kissing a boy, he was supposedly very public with his affairs. Draco supposed it was better for both of them; Draco and Ron didn't have to spend time around each other, so Draco didn't have to throw up over Ron's PDA's, and Ron didn't have to throw up about how sappy the Heads were. It really was best that they both keep their lunches in.

Still, Draco couldn't possibly say that he didn't want to show Hermione off a little bit everyday. He couldn't possibly say that he didn't want to rip the face off of every guy who flirted with his clandestine girlfriend, either. But either way, Hermione was keeping mum, and that was all there was to it.

"Don't leave me tonight," Draco said, looking at her with his expression perfectly hidden, but she guessed by the grip he held on her hand that he really didn't want anything more than to spend some more time with her.

She looked at him with a sinking pit of regret in her stomach. If only she had told her friends she wanted a quiet New Year's Eve reading a book or something. If only he wasn't so perfect to her. If only he wouldn't look at her like that. If only he could look at her like that in public… if only she'd told her friends.

"I have to."

"No, no you don't," Draco said, shaking his head. "You could always, you know, spend time here with your boyfriend and watch the fireworks over Hogsmeade with me." That would be romantic and sweet, and in her mind, Hermione couldn't think of anything she'd rather do. Then she remembered the excitement of Ron and Harry that day at lunch as they babbled on and on about their plans to get butterbeer from the House elves, the decorations that Lavender and Parvati had toiled over, and the dares Ron had prepared.

"Draco…." She hoped he could tell how she really felt about it all. "Harry will worry, and if I'm not there by midnight, Ron will throw a fit at me tomorrow."

"Just… just stay a little longer then." After she left, he'd either have to stay here and celebrate on his own, or take a trip down to the dreary Slytherin dungeons and celebrate the corrupt way. He much preferred the climate up here. The heat of the fire was just the perfect offset to the cold of the snow that was creeping into the room and curling up at their ankles, and the intoxicating scent of Hermione's hair was clouding his senses. He closed his eyes and drew her closer, and they just sat, happy to be in each other's company.

A small gasp from his side alerted him to the fact that his girlfriend was, A, having a minor freak out and, B, that his girlfriend was letting his arm go. Neither should ever be allowed, in his opinion.

Hermione was frantic. "Did you know it's bloody _10:45_?! It takes a half hour to get to the castle, let alone enough time to properly socialize before the countdown! And they'll never believe I studied this much on New Year's!!" She stopped her pacing and rushed to where Draco was still sitting, falling to her knees and scooping her papers back into her bag.

"I think they'd believe that," Draco said, looking at her passively. "What they wouldn't believe is that you spent so much time cuddling with Draco "evil bastard" Malfoy."

"It was hardly cuddling—."

"You're right, it was more like sleeping while you _should_ have been spending New Years the romantic way."

"Nonsense! If anything, you shouldn't have been doing homework! That's what made me fall asleep!"

Draco paused for dramatic effect, staring at Hermione with a ridiculously fake expression of shock plastered upon his features. "Hermione Granger—bored of homework! This is one for the headlines." He caught the hand she had swung at him, a smirk on his face. "Besides, it's not my fault that you _insisted_ that we _snog_ so much when we could have been doing homework then!"

"Well it's not my fault you needed so much practice! Honestly, I've seen Puffeinskins that kiss better!" Draco looked fairly insulted by the suggestion, but Hermione just grinned at him.

Draco started, "I'm just dying to know whenever you've kissed a Puffeinskin like that Hermione, but—."

"But I have to leave for a New Year's party, sorry!" Hermione kissed him briefly before spinning around and practically spinning out the door. Draco stood in post-kiss shock for a minute, watching her bright red cloak spin out of his sight, when he hollered, "Hey, wait a minute! Where are you going?!"

He ran to the door, grabbing her sleeve as she was walking away. "It's cold outside! I don't want you to get sick!" He pulled close to him, ignoring her protests. "Besides, I know the perfect way to keep you warm!"

He pushed her against the still open door, closing it as he did so and kissing her long and deep. He was just smug enough to think that that would stop a determined Hermione in her tracks. She melted against him, and sighed against his kiss… almost too easily.

He pulled away and gave her a critical eye. "What is it?"

She grinned up at him. "You closed the door. You're about as bloody moronic as Ron is sometimes." He gaped at her, and she continued, "But guess what? I win!" She giggled, and kissed him with vigor, thinking about how romantic it must be that they were kissing with the thick snow falling as it was. A second after she released him, he swore like a dementor, though the grin he always had after kissing her was still stuck on his features.

"Bloody hell," he said, looking at her with a flush still tinting his cheeks from the intense warmth of their kiss and the intense cold of Jack Frost's wind. He looked at his beautiful witch, who was staring back with so much love in his eyes that he shivered even more. It wasn't just the cold.

"Yeah," Hermione sighed happily. "Bloody hell."

He kissed her gently on the nose, and they entwined their fingers and took the scenic route back to the school. It was the best New Year's yet.


End file.
